Not A Good Day
by Lara1221
Summary: Albus Potter's day is certainly not going well, and Neville Longbottom is not really enjoying the attitude that comes with it.


**Disclaimer:** I. have. nothing!

 **A/N:** After JK revealed the amazing NevilleIsAl'sGodfather news, I knew I had to do something, so this is the plot I formed and I hope you guys enjoy :) **Written for: (skip)**

 **ultimate battle: semi-finals:** neville longbottom **; hogwarts yr 2: transfiguration** (dangers of transfiguration) and **herbology** (hard time creating something) **:** prompts - word: witch, gate / era: 19 years later / mood: confused / emotion: playful, mad / color: apple green / adjective: surprised / phrase: kill me now, laughter is the best medicine / lwl: 333 / event: going to hospital wing / sentence: I did it, really! My mum even got the picture to prove it, I just feel awful **; open cat 5:** gen **; chp acrostics: n:** prompt - neville **;**

* * *

Not a Good Day

No one in Greenhouse Number 5, at this moment, looked more dissatisfied to be there than one Albus Potter. Neville Longbottom sat from his desk and tried not to be offended by his godson's lack of interest; after all, the boy was scowling at everything.

The spiky bush he was now attempting to set on fire just happened to be getting the brunt of it.

Neville did not know why Albus was so angry, but he could take a guess. Albus' hair, usually so like Harry's ash black, was green. Not the Slytherin green of his now week-old robes, or the bottle green of his eyes, but a bright, apple green, a look that was earning him furious giggles from his classmates. Rose, who was there on account of this being his double Ravenclaw-Slytherin block, was shooting him sympathetic glances, but he ignored her.

Godric, if this was James' doing, Merlin help him when Neville got to him. Poor Al looked like he'd been through hell. Though Neville was confused; James _did_ prank out of malice, but Albus usually took the opportunity to skive and get him back, not sulk in a loss.

And Al's marks. This shouldn't be difficult for him; they had learned to burn out the bushes yesterday, and Albus had done extremely well.

But not a speck of fire had come from his wand. Neville watched as he repeated the spell and grew frustrated with himself, over and over on repeat, and it was twenty minutes in when Neville decided he couldn't take it anymore.

"Mister Potter! Can I have a word?" Neville watched as Albus raised his head to look at him, his features forming a disgruntled mask. He made his way to through the students until he stood in front of the desk.

"You rang?" The bite in his tone made Neville want to laugh. Al could be menacing when he wanted to be, especially if James was in the picture, but he was still a bit too young and innocent-looking for the sarcasm to work. Though the Slytherin robes certainly helped. "Professor…" Al said, clearly trying to speed things along. Neville remained silent, still trying to formulate a response. That hair was just too good. "Neville!" Al whispered harshly, and this caught his attention.

"Not in class, Mister Potter, you know that."

Al rolled his eyes. "You're the one staring at me like I've got three heads."

"Correction: a green head."

"Oh great, you want to take the mickey too?"

"Of course not! Though I _would_ like to know how it happened, even if it's not exactly a thrilling story for you, and why you seem incapable of producing a charm you excelled in yesterday. Those spikes are going to go right through you if you don't light them up soon."

"Might as well kill me now." Neville pondered the fact that this was, undoubtedly, the most sarcastic conversation he'd ever had with his godson. Neville knew this was getting nowhere fast, and he couldn't show complete favoritism and talk to one student about his personal issues for nearly the entire lesson. He'd have to push this along or throw Al out, neither of which were favorable options.

"Are you going to talk to me like your godfather, your friend, or your teacher? Because you know which one I need right now."

"Whichever one gets me back to my seat."

Neville began a playful banter, hoping it would get Al to relax a bit.

"Why is your hair green?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Why can't you cast the spell you cast yesterday?"

"Why can't we just drown the spiky bushes?"

Neville shook his head. The resemblance to Ginny was uncanny. "You're going to the Hospital Wing."

Al's mouth fell open. "The Hospital Wing! Why?! I'm not sick."

"You're ill from unreasonable grumpiness and a serious attitude. Five points, if you don't leave now."

If possible, Al's mouth widened even farther. He blinked a couple of times and open and closed it like a fish. "You can't be serious."

"Five points, final warning."

Al's expression grew incredibly angry, and Neville felt the slightest twinge of guilt for putting it there. "Fine! Have fun with your spiky bushes, Uncle Nev!"

The boy fled through the greenhouse's gate, and Neville set his students back to work before they could ask any questions.

* * *

Luckily, Al and Rosie's class had been his last for the day, and afterwards, Neville went to the Hospital Wing to see if he could talk some sense into Albus.

Albus was scowling at the reflection in the hand mirror as Neville approached. He made a dash to put it down when he heard footsteps, but his ears reddened when he realized he was caught red handed.

Neville relied on his fallback. Who likes their brother when they're _eleven_ anyway?

"Was it James? He's a right prat, that boy."

It worked. A hint of a smile appeared on Al's face, but he was still looking at the bed and away from Neville.

"No. It was me. Can you believe it? I can't believe it! I had everything just fine this first week. I was a natural! All the spells and everything. But we were doing color change charms in Transfiguration today – what the hell? - "

"Language."

"You're not my Mum! It's a _charm!_ – and I made my bloody hair bright green. It was accidental magic, I think. We were changing apples from red to green, and I'm pretty sure I was just thinking about the spell and rubbing the back of my neck - "

"I told you that was a horrible habit," Neville cut in.

" - and I just blasted my hair bright green. Look at me! I look like grass, or grass flavored Bertie Bott's! Or boogies. Ugh."

"You do _not_ look like you have a head full of boogies, but if you did, you would be the boogieman, so it's all fine."

"And _then_ the rest of the class started to laugh, right? Like, who pranks _themselves_? I couldn't get my actual Charm's charm right, Sir Cadogen harassed me in the stairwell, and then I couldn't get _Incendio!_ I mean _come on_ , I cast that already! I just feel awful." He was looking at Neville now, eyes blazing.

"Everyone has crappy days, Al." Neville put as much comfort into the words as he could, but he really didn't know what else to say.

"I had the _crappiest_ day. And then Rose got everything perfect. How does she do that?"

"Rose is a talented witch, but it doesn't make you less of a talented wizard."

"How would you know? You're Neville Longbottom; you don't have crappy days."

"Ha! I've told you all the stories. Don't play dumb with me. I was the unluckiest of them all, and you heard every bit of it."

"But you were _amazing_ at the magic. Even if it was bad day. And you never had to prove to anyone you would still be good at magic in…in _Slytherin_." Albus looked so downtrodden. Neville reached out and placed a hand on his godson's shoulder.

"You don't have to prove anything to anyone. Slytherin…and this is the _biased_ point of view, believe me…is an amazing house filled with talented kids, and they're lucky to have you, especially since you're _the_ Albus Potter, survivor of unlucky days. But unless you have about three years of those days, you still don't get to take the title from me." Albus looked at him with interest.

"Whatever happened to you?"

"I came back to the common room in third year, completely burnt. It was Seamus' fault. But I've also forgotten the password more times than any Gryffindor in the history of this school, _lost_ a list of passwords I've written down, been fainted by a mandrake, injured in multiple broom accidents, _and_ impaled by the spikes of a spiky bush, so you better learn that spell again before you wind up like me."

It worked; Albus' façade finally cracked, and he burst out laughing. Laughter, Neville had always thought, was the best medicine.

"Did you… did you really faint?"

"That's nothing, I did it in the common room too when Oliver Wood's awful mates slipped something into my drink; I ended up smashed."

"No way!"

"I did it, really! Your Mum – well, Colin took it – has the picture to prove it." He said it with a smile; looking at his godson, thinking of his daughters, it didn't hurt so much anymore.

Albus finished laughing, catching his breath, and then seemed to feel guilty. His eyes shifted away. "I…I'm sorry I acted out today."

"That's okay. I would have, too, with a day like yours. But you should've talked to me. You _know_ you can always talk to me, Slytherin or not."

"Really?" Albus looked at him hopefully.

"Really." Neville nodded with a grin. "Now, let's get rid of this hair, shall we? You can do it, I know it. Go on, cast the spell."

Albus looked wary, but obeyed. He raised his want to his head and spoke the incantation, eyes closed tightly as if praying it would work. It did. Neville smiled. "Check that reflection."

Albus whooped in excitement. "Thank Merlin."

Neville gave him a playful nudge, one that Al returned. "Nice. Now, give this a go." Silently, Neville summoned Al's spiky bush from the greenhouse and placed it on the hospital bed.

Albus shrieked as the spikes poised to attack, but not after he set the thing ablaze and glared at his godfather as if he had endured something highly stressful and Neville had erupted into laughter.


End file.
